I have to ask, because of late I’ve noticed that if you identify as ‘liberal’, the slew of insults is immediate and harsh. We are often referred to as libtards, libtarts, or scum. There are nastier ones, but for decency and family ratings, let’s stick to those. The Afrikaans word for scum is much more expressive: ‘gespuis.’ It is impossible to simply say this word; it can only be spat out with total condemnation of a person as a whole, similar to when we call someone ‘jou ma se p*es,’ which itself is still somehow a lesser slight in today’s political climate than being called a ‘liberal.’
There’s a famous comedy sketch in which two Nazi officers suddenly become concerned that, just possibly, they might be the bad guys. One looks at the skull on his cap and asks the immortal question:
“Hans, are we the baddies?”
It’s a magnificent piece of comedy because it captures a rare human moment of self-awareness. I am now at that moment. And while I have no skulls on my cap, I shall honestly share how I experience it from my side. As for being a tart, it actually feels pretty good. The word has a long and colourful history. It emerged in English as a mildly disapproving term for someone thought to be flirtatious or, depending on the century, simply insufficiently apologetic for not staying in their assigned lane. The slur was less about morality than independence. I think it is a fitting word; liberals are politically promiscuous. We don’t believe in exclusive relationships with ideologies. We will happily steal good ideas from conservatives, progressives, libertarians, environmentalists or anyone else who occasionally stumbles onto something sensible. We are constantly accused of seducing the opposition. It is true, liberals will flutter their eyelids at anyone who promotes freedom of the individual, whether that expresses itself in thought, speech, trade, or association. We agitate for smaller government and leaving individuals the hell alone, as we believe freedom in markets and choices deliver better results for all. Liberals distrust the state when conservatives are in power. They distrust the state when progressives are in power. We defend free speech for people we disagree with. We are serial policy daters, tarts for a good cause. In an age where everyone seems eager to divide humanity into competing tribes, tarts refuse to pick a side – that may be the most revolutionary act of all. And perhaps that is why “liberal” has become an insult.
A very cool thing about being a liberal is that Jan van Riebeeck doesn’t live rent-free in our heads. He is neither the great evil lynchpin in South African history that caused all the trouble in an instant by disrupting a perfect rainbow nation. Nor is he the great conqueror whose biggest mistake was not that he colonised and enslaved the locals (because that is much better than free market democracies, obvs.) His most grievous error, according to the latter group, was that he did not secede Bloubergstrand immediately upon landing, build a high wall around it, and live in his little enclave forever. We are of the view that history shows that Van Riebeeck was an average man with little foresight whose mother sent him to the shops to get some Ceylon tea and he got lost on the way because he was too proud to ask for directions. And, not but, we acknowledge that everything has consequences, intended or not, and we should face up to them. That does not mean that I am a fence-sitter: it is worse than that – I don’t acknowledge the fence. I refuse to be bullied into a binary imperative on every issue, and, should I refuse to take up arms in totality for a certain side, I am labelled a traitor. Left, or right? Black or white? My way or the highway? Oh, fuck off. Grow up. Life is far more complicated than that. No issue can be reduced to two sides. Wheels turn. We live in complex systems that are continuously evolving, with emergent qualities. Seeking certainty is the lazy way out. Perhaps the most valuable intellectual skill you can cultivate is to sit with this complexity in awe, compassion, and, if at all humanly possible, a sense of humour.
From the point of view of the scum in the story, we certainly laugh a lot, often at ourselves. If politics were Star Wars, we would not be the heroes. We are not Luke Skywalker fighting Darth Vader for leadership of the Death Star. We’re mostly arguing that perhaps nobody should be trusted with the controls of something that powerful. People don’t cheer when you say, “I think power should be limited. Let us decentralise the Death Star.’ We would ask questions like: ‘Have you thought this thing through with logic, not emotion? Has anyone stopped playing with their light sabres long enough to do a cost-benefit analysis?” People don’t raise their clenched fists in support when you say things like that. It’s difficult to lead a glorious uprising when someone keeps interrupting with a spreadsheet tracking GDP. They look at you as though you’ve confessed to collecting human teeth, like an actual Nazi, which to some people a more admirable position on today’s spectrum than ‘liberal.’
I can’t speak to being a Nazi, but being a scum is not all bad, to give it to you straight. What you might regard as having no backbone is, in fact, flexibility and the capacity for nuance that provide the strength to insist some principles matter even if they are unpopular. We float on top of the water, with a kind of resilience that allows us to be equally at ease with agreeing with policies that genuinely protect the vulnerable while fighting hard against creating another bureaucratic monster. Equal rights? Yes. Strong property rights? Also, yes. Our presence is felt. Our influence resulted in liberal democracies that have lifted most of the planet out of poverty and moved more people towards equality than ever before in history. I dunno, that doesn’t feel like evil to me. It feels like I am the only one keeping my head when all about me are losing theirs and blaming it on me. I don’t feel like a ‘gespuis’, but I acknowledge others might have a different opinion. Move like a butterfly, sting like a bee, float like a scum. Or something like that.
So, yes, I am a liberal. I am of the Helen Suzman school of liberalism. We believe the law should apply equally whether your surname is Zuma, Ramaphosa, Malema or Vermaak. Our finest liberals weren’t remembered because they always won. They believed the law should restrain power, not merely legitimise it. They defended rights for people they disagreed with. They annoyed governments of every stripe with almost equal enthusiasm. I can’t imagine anyone calling Helen Suzman a scumtart, and I certainly shan’t be the first. I am slightly taken aback by all the invective but will not rise in self-righteous retribution. I am tolerant, even of the intolerant. I know how to trust myself when others doubt me, but make allowance for their doubting too. I can be lied about, yet not deal in lies. And be hated, but do not deal in hating. Yet, I don’t look too good, nor talk too wise. I can walk with crowds, and keep my virtue, and talk to kings, yet never lose the common touch. If you can do all these things, well, then you too might be a liberal.
It’s okay, you don’t have to answer the question; ‘I am a liberal. Are we the baddies?’ After some self-reflection, I have more clarity. It is probably not a bad idea that everyone else asks themselves the same thing.
[Vivienne Vermaak is an award-winning journalist and keynote speaker.]
[Image: https://www.pexels.com/photo/classical-columns-of-academic-building-in-buenos-aires-34747474/]
The views of the writer are not necessarily the views of the Daily Friend or the IRR.
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